


The Lords of Lannister Have a Heart to Heart

by Logos_Faber



Series: Stark Raving Lannister [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5587612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Logos_Faber/pseuds/Logos_Faber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lannister men get a few things off their chests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m surprised to see you so early this morning. Lost interest in your new wife so soon?”

“You married mother for love. Your wedding night was the glorious culmination of all your heartfelt passion. I on the other hand was foisted upon a heartbroken child. Attempting to consummate our joyous union a less than ideal experience.”

Tywin Lannister looked up from his paperwork to his youngest child standing near his chair. They were alone in the small council room, but Tyrion Lannister made no effort to take one of the empty seats. He also did not reach for the wine on the table. Tyrion regarded his father with the same grave expression Tywin recognized from looking in the mirror when trimming his beard.

Tywin dropped his pen, and sat back in his chair. Tywin's youngest son had his full attention. “A conscious is a fatal inconvenience for lord. It makes a man hesitant to do what is necessary for the greater good. That hesitation is viewed as weakness by enemies. When that weakness is exploited, there is no quarter given to the morally virtuous.”

“I was under the impression you wanted little Lannister-Starks to someday rule the North? If my wife flings herself off a wall in a fit utter despair, I won't be able to get an heir out of her.”

“The girl has proven resilient up to this point. What have you done to her?”

“After she burst into hysterical tears and made a run desperate for the windows? I talked her out of suicide and put her to bed. She cried herself to sleep while I kept vigil to make sure she would not make another attempt to end her life.”

“With your vast experience with women. I assumed you would be able to bed a virgin without difficulty. Again you disappoint me Tyrion.”

“If you wanted quick results we could have killed the girl and passed off an impostor as we did with Arya Stark. If is truly your desire that I should rule the North with Sansa at my side let me bring her round gently. In my own way. In my own time. Seedlings to do not become trees overnight.”

“Nothing grows until a seed is at least planted.”

Father and son looked at each other without blinking for a long moment.

“I am sure you are aware that until this farcical marriage was forced upon me, I planned to leave Westeros to you and your golden twins. Why didn’t you wed Sansa to Jamie or Tommen and let me go my own way in the world. I know you hate me. You always have, and you have certainly never tried to hide it.”

“I'm not sending Jamie to the North because he is destined to rule Casterly Rock. Tommen is too weak to tame that wolf-bitch. Cersei has made him weak. I'll have to find some young widow guide his hand. You owe me. Joanna died bringing your miserable deformed self into this world, and I let you live because it was the last thing she ever asked of me. You owe the House of Lannister a life debt for that act of mercy."

“And a Lannister always pays his debts.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.”

"My mother asked you to spare my life?" Tyrion asked softly.

"Joanna was fond of cripples, bastards and broken people. It was she who saw the potential in Gregor and Sandor Clegane. She bade me have them trained to be knights. She said every great man needs a pet monster. She was right. So far you are the only person Joanna was ever wrong about."

Tywin Lannister took up his pen and went back to writing.

“Since I am to serve this family until death, I feel it is worth mentioning that the crown owes the Lannisters 3 million gold dragons."

"I am aware."

"The Lannisters owe the Iron Bank of Braavos one and a half million gold dragons. By the way, the crown is flat broke. The coffers are bare as a newborn's bloody backside. Revenue is flat as my wife's bosom. The unforgiving Iron Bank is sending a representative in eleven months to discuss our credit. This war with the Starks and Stannis Baratheon and the royal wedding are costing us a dragon's horde, and your daughter Queen Cersei just commissioned a ship - the fastest ever built, for Myrcella's name day. Have you factored those detail into your plans?”

Tywin paused in his writing but did not look at his youngest son.

“The crown had reserves of four million gold dragons when I was hand of the king during Aerys’ rein.”

“Jon Ayyrn appointed Petyr Baelish to Master of Coin. Baelish allowed Robert Baratheon to rack up six million gold dragons in debt. The Iron Throne borrowed from everyone you can think of: every bank in the world, trade groups, the Faith of the Seven, our family, the Starks, the Tyrells -”

“Six million gold dragons,” Tywin breathed in horrified awe looking into the distance.

“Even if you sold the Red Keep there would not be enough to pay it all back."

"Where did it all go? Did Baratheon secretly have the throne reforged in solid gold and painted black? When Qarlton Chelsted managed the crown’s finances there were lean times but never a short fall, what the hell happened?”

“Baelish let Baratheon have whatever he wanted by borrowing. He used the crown’s money to finance his purchase of whore houses, wagons, shops, ships, merchandise – he even lent out money himself; but never paid the crowns debts with anything but promises. The Seven only know how much was Baelish and Arryn embezzled then smuggled off to the Vale.”

“Cersei assured me Baelish was a wizard with coin. She said he could rub two dragons together and make three.”

“You trusted the personal recommendation of a woman who once fancied herself in love with the _charming_ Robert Baratheon? The same woman who thinks Joffrey is a _high spirited boy_?”

The corner of Tywin’s mouth twitched in a rueful smile. “She gave Baelish, Harrenhal, and lordship over the Riverlands as a reward for his service to the seven kingdoms. Ordered him to go marry Lady Arryn to secure her loyalty to the throne.”

“The Vale is conveniently close to North. In case you did not know Jon Arryn’s widow is Lysa Tully. Robb Stark’s aunt. Catelyn Stark's sister. I have heard the Baelish was fostered with the Tullys as a child."

“No doubt Lysa brought Baelish to Arryn's notice."

"With friends like Baelish we might as well have opened the gates to Stannis Baratheon."

"How long do you think that sickly Arryn boy will last with Baelish as a stepfather?”

“How long do you think we will last if the Riverlands, the Vale and North band together to over throw Joffrey with funding from the Iron Bank of Braavos?”

“What do you propose?”

“Make Cersei Master of Coin: let her deal with Baelish. He is her pet. She allowed him to get rich off our wars, then appoint his toadies as tax collectors, pursers, harbor masters and the like. Given what’s at stake I believe she has the most motivation to bring Baelish to heel.”

“Master of Coin is a man’s job.”

“I think we’ll both agree Cersei is twice the man I am. Plus she's got bigger balls than Jamie. She'd lead your armies if you let her. You know she would.”

Tywin laughed like an old dog’s bark before he caught himself. “You have more faith in your sister’s ability than she has in yours.”

“We don’t have to like each other to work toward a common goal. As you have so often reminded me the bonds of family have little to do with affection. Until you disown me I am a Lannister. I am in as much danger everyone else if Stannis should come to power.”

“What do you plan to do while Cersei wrestles with the gold dragons?”

“I intend to take my wife to Casterly Rock to assess her ability to manage a household and my ability to manage _her_. Then we shall journey on to the Vale to cut Baelish’s ambitions to marry the Arryn widow off at the knees.”

“As I recall the last time you were in the Vale they wanted to toss you out the Moon Door.”

“True, but now I am married to Sansa Stark. I’m sure that will count for… something.”

“Very well. Take a conscription of troops from Casterly Rock. Leave Lannisters to hold it what we have conquered in the Riverlands, and go to the Vale with a phalanx. Tell Lady Arryn, by order of the King, she is to provide you supplies and a legion of knights to march on Winterfell. We'll force that Stark boy to turn back home then crush him between our forces."

“Lady Arryn will not grant me an army to kill her sister’s children.”

“Lady Arryn is a vassal of the Iron Throne. She will do her duty to maintain order in the seven kingdoms or I will send her Sweet Robin to the Wall a eunuch and burn everything and everyone in the mountains to ash. She will bare the cost of her intrigues with Baelish in the gold and blood of her people. You will see to that. Put an end this rebellion and everything you conquer is yours to keep. I'll have a royal proclamation written up and signed before sundown. Now go.”

Tyrion turned on his heel and left his father quickly. Bronn was waiting for him outside the door, and fell instep behind the dwarf as he waddled down the hall to the stairs.

“So how’d it go?”

“Much better than I hoped. Cersei will be appointed Master of Coin, and I have father’s blessing to take Sansa and clear out of King’s Landing.”

“I thought only men could sit on the Small Council?”

“That’s hardly fair. Cersei is as much a man as Lord Varys, and she fucks people over all the time. I think she's man enough for government service don't you?”

The sell-sword guffawed loudly.

“So where are we going?”

“Casterly Rock first, then on to the Vale, father thinks the threat of war with Lannister will be enough to turn Lady Arryn against Robb Stark.”

“It’s more likely they’ll side with the Starks in the fight against the Lannister. Your father’s usually a better tactician than that.”

“Without Eddard Stark to strong arm them, the Greyjoys are revolting in the North. The numerous Frey are not likely to support the ascension of Robb Stark since his mother is a Tully and so is Lady Arryn. Everything the Freys have was stolen from the Tullys. In addition there is a rumor young Robb as up and married for love when he had a betrothal to a Frey girl. Without a marriage alliance the Frey's will be squeezed out of power if Arryn, Tully and Stark joined forces. ”

"Old Walden is not going to let that slap in the face go unpunished.”

“Exactly, and with so many children to settle in the world I should think the Frey will be interested in opening up opportunities anywhere they can.”

“Were does that place you?”

“I am man standing between everyone and my father’s considerable wrath and everyone else.”

“Nice place to be. Unless your old man snuffs it. Then you’re fucked.”

“Yes well, that’s why I must act quickly. First order of business, I need you to find more sell-swords with skill equal your own. I’m not going anywhere without my own men.”

“I’d hardly call sell-swords your own men. Can’t you pick up a legion at Casterly Rock.”

“Those are my father’s men. I need men loyal to me alone.”

The two men crossed the courtyards, up the stairs back into the residential wing of the Red Keep to Tyrion’s rooms. The squire Podrick Payne was waiting outside the door when Tyrion and Bronn approached.

“Has anyone been in to see my wife this morning?” Tyrion asked his squire.

“No milord. No one except Shae milord.”

“Have you eaten yet? No? Go get some breakfast for you and Bronn.” Podrick went to the kitchens to get food for himself and the sell-sword. Tyrion went into his chambers as Bronn took up sentry outside the bedroom. When the Tyrion opened the door both Shae and Sansa looked up.

“Good morning ladies, I trust you are both well?”

“Good morning milord Lannister.”

“Good morning Lord Tyrion.”

Shae smiled, discretely. She was busy folding the blankets on the chaise were Tyrion had slept. The bed were Sansa had slept alone on their wedding night was freshly made. Yesterday’s clothes and bedding gathered in a basket by her legs.

After seeing it was only Tyrion, Sansa looked down at the thick book in her lap. Her husband was pleased to see it was the book he had lent her. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and her pale skin glowed in a dress of champagne gold silk.

Tyrion could not understand how Sansa was an object of lust. If not for her height Sansa could have easily passed for a child of seven or eight. All lanky limbs and elbows with no curves to speak of. He could crop her hair and pass her off as a pretty boy without difficulty. Sansa was nothing compared to Shae. Tyrion could balance a small cup on the curve of her backside.

“Shae would you please bring some light refreshments? Lemon cakes, fruit tarts, smoked fish, some of that soft cheese, honey and apple blossom tea –“

“And wine?”

“No, I had enough wine yesterday for today and tomorrow I think. A headache powder would be appreciated.”

“Right away milord,” Shae replied.

She bobbed a curtsy, picked up her laundry basket and flounced out the door. He would have to do something about Shae. Whores and wives were like wine and fire. Separately good, combustible when combined.

Tyrion stood watching Sansa while she read until she looked up again.

“Why are you staring at me, lord Tyrion?”

“Please, call me Tyrion, we are married – and since we shall not be lovers I hope we can at least be friends.”

“You think I’ll want you in my bed if you’re nice to me?”

“It doesn’t matter if you want me in your bed or not. I don’t to sleep with you, any more than I want to sleep with Myrcella. I did not want to marry you. I do not intend to hold you hostage for the rest my life.”

“You’ll take me back to my family?”

“I’m taking you to Casterly Rock, then the Vale. If we survive the journey we’ll plan from there.”

“I’m leaving King’s Landing?”

“We sail with the tide tomorrow.”

Sansa sprang from her seat, letting the book tumble to the floor and rushed to Tyrion. The willowy young teen dropped to her knees without a thought to the skirt of her costly gown, flung her arms around Tyrion and hugged the little man tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Tyrion I thought I’d die here!”

Tyrion patted her on the back. He had not been the subject of such unbridled gratitude since he brought Tommen and Myrcella rare moss green striped kittens from the Hill tribes.

He gently pushed her away by the shoulders and was pleased to see his child-bride grinning like the young girl she was.

“This is a secret. Only Bronn and my father know. No doubt he’ll announce our plans during the small council meeting tomorrow afternoon. By then we will be sailing away and no one can stop us.”

“I’ll start packing now –“ Sansa began to rise but Tyrion pushed her back down to her knees with his hands on her shoulders.

“No Sansa. We are literally walking out of this castle with the clothes on our back and onto a boat. We will give no sign of what we are about to do until it is done. Sew a pocket in your dress for keepsakes. Don’t say anything to anyone. Not Shae or Margaery. Don’t even whisper it in the godswood.”

“I can’t say goodbye to anyone?”

“Sansa, Joffery ordered a member of the King’s guard to murder me during the Battle of Blackwater Bay and he hates your whole family. The only thing keeping us alive is the whims of my father. When he dies we will have to either have an army or an ocean between us and Joffery. Do you understand?”

“Yes milord, but surely Cersei wouldn’t let Joffery kill you. You’re his uncle -”

“Your father confessed to treason because Cersei promised him exile to the Wall and his daughter’s safe return to Winterfell. Eddard Stark's head ended up on a spike anyway because no matter what Cersei schemes, Joffery is king not her. Rule number two: never trust the honor of your enemies.”

Sansa rose slowly to her feet. She looked down her long face at her little husband with her hands clasped demurely in front of her. “Since I can not pack, what should I do with my day my lord husband?”

Tyrion sighed tiredly. “What is it you want to take with you?”

This is why he would never have children. He had transported vicious devil-spawn cats inside his shirt to keep them alive until they could be presented to Tommen and Mrycella. Now the sad face of Eddard Stark’s daughter was making Tyrion upset his careful plans.

Tyrion could not imagine what his own children might inspire him to do. Possibly hatch dragons and burn down the world so they could roast marshmallows in the flames.

Sansa looked at the floor and wrung her fingers together nervously. Tyrion waited patiently for the reluctant confession. Children were all the same. They all fidget-ted when when they had to reluctantly confess.  Tommen fiddled with the hem of his shirt and Myrcella bit her lower lip. 

“I have a cloak. It’s trimmed in white fur from my wolf Lady. Mother made it with her own hand.”

“Your parents clothed you in the pelt of your dead pet?”

“I asked her too. It was my fault Lady died, and I wanted her with me when I came to King’s Landing. Lady always made me feel safe…when Joffery was awful I slept in my cloak and felt a little better even though I was all alone.”

“Is that a northern custom? Keeping horse size dogs as pets then wearing their skins when they die?”

“Yes my lord.”

“That hairy cloak Eddard used to wear?”

“Was his wolf Shadow Mark. All my family’s cloaks except mine were trimmed with Shadow’s fur. He was a large wolf. He died fighting a white bear and her cubs last winter.”

“I had no idea your cloaks had so much sentimental value or I would have retrieved your father’s.”

“It’s okay, milord. I’m grateful to have his ring.”

“I’ll make sure your cloak is aboard the ship when we set sail. Is there anything else?”

“What about the book milord? It won’t fit in a pocket.”

“I’ll have my squire carry it. He’s often seen carrying books and papers for me. No one will think it amiss. I’ll contrive a way for him to smuggle your cloak as well. Anything else?”

“What about Shae? Is she coming with us?”

“The journey will be dangerous. Squire Payne and Bronn are sworn to protect your life as they are my own. Shae has no such guarantee of protection. Are you sure you want to endanger her like that?”

“No, milord, but she's my friend. I don't want to abandon her here.”

“I know you consider her a friend, but friends are dangerous things. Ned was Robert Baratheon’s friend. By all accounts Prince Rhaegar was your uncle Brandon’s friend and he abducted your aunt Lyanna. It seems friends don’t do much for the house of Stark. Perhaps you should think on that my lady.”

Tyrion bowed to Sansa, and turned to leave the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Ser Jamie Lannister heard a door close, and glanced round the corner of the stairwell. He watched Tyrion hurry down the corridor, away from his chambers and around the next corner. The sell-sword Bronn and the squire Podrick Payne were lounging on the floor.

Tyrion's men used the bottom of a upside down basket as a table. They shared a rude breakfast of fresh bread, fruit, cheese and a clay jug of cider cider spread out on a clean white napkin between them. He and the squire used their short knives and fingers like peasants.

"Stop lurking," Bronn called out around a mouth full of food. "It's unbecoming of an illustrious member of the King's Guard."

Caught out, Jamie gave up his attempt at subtlety. He came round the corner at his usual cloak flaring stride with. His hand rested upon the hilt of his long sword. Podrick Payne quickly clambered to his feet when he saw it was Jaime who approached.

The young squire wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and almost choked on a hastily swallowed mouthful. Squire Payne stood at attention with his hands at his sides, gulping nervously.

Ser Jamie was well aware of his reputation. He could not help being pleased at Payne’s respectful fear.

“Morning Ser Lannister, ” Payne greeted Jamie with an abrupt bow, and focused his gaze on a point just over Jamie’s shoulder.

The sell-sword Bronn remained seated. He looked up at Jaime Lannister with an easy smile that did not reach his eyes. Bronn took another bite of his apple and chewed loudly.

“Lord Tyrion’s out at the moment, would you like to leave a message?” Bronn inquired.

His manner was almost mocking, as if he where privy to a jape nobody else knew. Something about his attitude reminded Jamie strongly of Tywin Lannister. Jamie he hated and respected the man for that instinctively much as he did his father.

"I'm here to see Sansa Stark. Stand aside."

"I'm sorry my lord. Her husband, your _little brother_ , has given orders that no one but Lady Lannister's handmaid is to cross that threshold without his permission. I'm sure you understand: they haven't been married a full day. The novelty of monogamy is still fresh."

"I don't like your manner sell sword."

Jamie reached for his sword with a growl. Bronn reached for the sword lying by his side. Jamie drew his long sword and swung up intending to level the tip of his blade beneath the Bronn's chin.

Bronn bent forward at the waist stretching his whole torso along his legs as though reaching for his boots, ducking beneath Jamie's blade. Bronn brought his sheathed blade up as Jaime leaned over him.

Bronn struck the soft unprotected arm pit of Jaime's sword arm with enough force to disarm the one handed knight. He pressed his advantage by jabbing Jamie where his leg and hip connected with his hilt, then sweeping Jamie off his feet when he tried to step back from the attack.

Disarmed, flat on his back at the feet of a sell-sword and a squire, Ser Jamie Lannister could only fume as Bronn got to his feet pushing up himself up with the help of his sword like a cane, walked over.

Bronn looked down on Jamie with a blank face and dark judging eyes that found everything about Jaime lacking. He finished his apple, flung it down the hall. He offered Jamie his juice sticky hand. Jamie knocked it away.

"I don't need your help." Jamie rolled to his knees, then stagger up to his feet unaided. He retrieved and re-sheathed his sword one handed with difficulty with his back to the two other men.

"Course not," Bronn backed away from him. The sell-sword dropped back down to a sprawl and continued his breakfast, now with one hand on the long sword propped against his thigh.

"Case you're wondering Lord Tyrion has gone to fetch a few things from the Office of the Master of Coin.”

The man speared a sausage and ate half of it before washing it down with a generous gulp of cider. He ate like a banner man, quickly and with no concern for manners in case his meal was interrupted.

“If you want to wait. He'll be back in less than half an hour," Squire Payne offered.

Ser Jamie ignored them both and strode off in the direction Tyrion had gone. On the one hand Jamie was relieved Sansa had competent protection. On the other hand the defeat hurt his pride. Especially since it happened in front of squire nobody.

Jamie consoled himself with the promise of a victorious rematch after he had trained more with his non-dominate hand. If he could arrange for Cersei to be watching all the better. She always rewarded his combat victories generously.

Jamie caught up with Tyrion and Lord Vary’s deep in conversation in a shadow of the arched breeze way near the foot of the stairs that lead to Master of Coin’s solar.

Lord Varys, with his hands tucked into his draping robes was leaning into Tyrion’s face, whispering something Jamie could not hear.

Tyrion stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking down - listening to Lord Varys without interruption.

Jamie did not like the look of it. Jamie remembered Lord Varys’ loyalty and wise council to House Targaryen. There was no doubt in Jamie’s mind the Master of Whispers was up to no good.

Cersei had never mentioned Varys being especially helpful to Robert Baratheon or his heir Joffrey. Jaime doubted anything Lord Varys might have to say to Tyrion in private would benefit the Lannisters.

He hurried to disrupt whatever web the spider was spinning, and made a mental note to tell his father about it.

“Tyrion!” Jamie made sure his smile was broad and genuine as he approached the two men. He wanted Varys to see the Lannisters were united in loyalty and affection. “Good morrow brother, Lord Varys. Well met.”

Lord Varys straightened up slowly, not at all disturbed or surprised to be found whispering in Tyrion ear. The shameless bastard. Tyrion looked up, he had been frowning, but when he saw it was Jamie hailing him he smiled in turn. Tyrion hurried forward on his stumpy legs to meet Jamie half way.

The brother’s greeted each other with a manly forearm grasp. Tyrion's scarred face was even more ugly when he smiled.

“Sword practice ended early today?” Tyrion asked. “I trust the new additions to the Kings Guard are up to your usual standards of excellence?”

“I hear Ser Loras Tyrell is very promising young man. Do you think he will serve the King's Guard with your level of dedication and distinction Lord Commander?” Lord Varys raised an eyebrow in polite inquiry as he glided forward to stand beside the brothers. 

Jaime looked at Varys hard trying to parse out his layers of meanings but could not. Jamie was not politician, and he refused to engage an enemy where he had neither an advantage nor equal footing.

“I'm sure he'll be a credit to the honor of his house. Lord Varys, if you’ll excuse my brother and I?”

“Of course,” Lord Varys nodded a polite bow, seemingly unperturbed by Jamie's blunt dismissal.

“I’m sure you have gifts and congratulations to shower upon your brother since you did not have an opportunity to do so at the wedding feast. Lord Tyrion please convey my felicitations to your lovely wife.”

“Sansa was very pleased with the two harps you sent. She already plays the lap harp and has wanted to learn the high harp for some time. When I left she was penning you a formal note of thanks.”

“I look forward to reading it,” Lord Varys murmured with a significant look at Tyrion that made him frown. “It is always gratifying when one’s gifts are appreciated. Lord Tyrion, Ser Jamie.”

Varys sashayed away with in a quiet whisper of silk befitting a high lady, not a man. Jamie scowled after him, and shook his head. “Don’t trust that eunuch Tyrion, he sheds loyalty like a snake sheds its skin.”

“My enemies in King’s Landing are much closer to home. Ser Mandon Moore, of the King’s Guard did this to my face during the battle for Blackwater Bay,” Tyrion told Jamie indicating his scarred face. “If not for Squire Payne, I’d be a tragic verse in father's heroic heroic victory ballad.”

“Traitorous rogue!”

“I beg, you for my sake," Tyrion pleaded holding his hands together as if praying. "Think with the head on your shoulders not in your pants! Cersei has hated me from my birth. Joffrey throws puppies into the fireplace for fun. Yet you dare suggest neither Cersei nor Joffrey would have me assassinated?”

“Cersei and Joffrey wouldn’t have you murdered – especially not while you were repelling Stannis Baratheon's attack on King's Landing. That would be pure madness! The Moores are from the Vale. Lady Arryn must have bribed him, since you escaped Catelyn's attempt to have you tossed out the Moon Door.”

“ One or both of them ordered the City Watch to murder all of Robert Baratheon’s bastards. The youngest was a baby still on her mother’s breast and you don’t think one or both of them would not kill me because I’m family? How naive.”

Jamie shifted uncomfortably. He had crippled little Brandon Stark on Cersei’s order. He knew what she was capable of, and Joffery was more his mother’s child than his fathers. He would have words with Cersei and Joffrey. This was not the time for the Lannisters to turn on each other; Tyrion could give them the benefit of the doubt.

“Robert’s bastards were a threat to Joffrey’s reign.You’re family, that’s different.”

“I do not pray often, but when I do, it is a plea that father lives long enough to have Tommen and Myrcella safely settled far away from court. I pray that you wake up from this delusion of love that’s made you a cat’s paw. Joffery is mad as any Targaryen. I don’t know what you see in Cersei beside a reflection of your darkness.”

“Don’t judge them harshly because they have no love for you Tyrion. Robert Baratheon beat Cersei – it’s only natural that she is greedy for the power to protect herself and her children. You of all people should understand that impulse Tyrion. I've heard you quite enjoyed your time as Hand of the King.”

“The only way those fifteen small children threatened Joffery’s reign was they were all born brunettes while Cersei’s children are blonde. An anomaly no one noticed until their bodies were laid out side by side on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor. That and the mass starvation caused a street riot after Myrcella set sail for Dorne.”

“Why did you send Myrcella to Dorne? The Martells have no love for us. Not after what the Mountain did to Elia and her children. Myrcella’s not safe in the south.”

“She was safe here? Tell me Jamie have your King’s Guard, City Watch or the generous bounty offered brought cousin Tyrek home to his parents and infant wife-to-be?”

“Tyrek’s missing? Cousin Tygett’s son?”

“Snatched into thin air during the riot, Sansa was almost carried off and raped. Thank the Seven she was found before anything permanent happened to her.”

“How did it get so bad?”

“Cersei and Joffery are bad rulers. She's cruel and he's crazy. The only thing keeping a lid on the pot now is father. I sent Myrcella to Dorne to stop the Martells from supporting the Baratheons. Tyrell loyalty is fickle, the future queen is Renly’s widow.”

Jamie snorted. “From Renly’s bed to Joffrey’s without tripping on a sheet, that girl is a nimble little minx. Cersei hates her you know.”

“Cersei’s jealous, and justly worried she’ll soon be replaced as the supreme womanly influence in Joffery’s life. It would serve Cersei right if the little queen had Joffrey put her head on a spike.”

“Joffrey would never turn on Cersei, especially not for a pretty smile and a pair of tits. I see your lips moving but I think it's the spider's voice I hear.”

“Men do crazy things for the women they love. I am not willing to bet my life on Joffery’s sense of filial devotion. Please note while both you and Cersei have voiced concern for Myrcella’s wellbeing in Dorne, the King – her brother – has neither ordered her marriage nor her return to secure her safety.”

Jamie had nothing to say in reply to that. When Tyrion turned and started walking in the direction of the Master of Coin’s office he followed him up the stairs to his office.

Jamie sat down in one of the chairs in front of his brother’s desk while Tyrion busied himself shuffling and organizing papers and scrolls.

“You’re not seriously going to work today of all days?”

“Why not? There’s work to be done, and I was appointed to do it.”

“You were married yesterday! Surely you would rather be with your wife.”

“That’s why you’re here.” Tyrion came round his desk to stand next to Jamie so he could look his bother in the eye with their father’s assessing frosty stare. “You want details of my wedding night with Sansa.”

“We promised Catelyn Stark to would return the Stark girls unharmed to Winterfell in exchange for my life. Remember?”

“If I rape Sansa and keep her chained to the bed until I get a son out of her that makes a mockery of your promise does it not?”

“You didn’t!” Jamie cried jumping to his feet.

Tyrion raised his eyebrows, “You really think I would?”

“Bronn wouldn’t let me in to see her,” Jamie defended himself.

“I did not believe you had broken your oath and stabbed King Aerys in the back until you told me yourself,” Tyrion replied angrily then turned toward the door without looking to see if Jamie would follow him.

“You’ve known me all my life, but since our shared history is not enough to assure you I would never use a helpless girl-child as father’s pet monsters the Mountain and Hound have done countless times while you watched and said nothing - I invite you to see for yourself.”

“Tyrion, please, I meant no offense. Surely you understand my concern for her welfare.”

“Joffrey had her stripped and beaten in front of the court by members of the King’s Guard. Have you had a private word with Joffrey about your concerns for Sansa’s safety?” Tyrion snapped over his shoulder striding angrily ahead despite his shorter legs.

“No member of the King’s Guard who strike a defenseless girl!”

“According to you, the King's Guard stood by while Mad King Aerys beat the living hell out of Queen Rhealla and burned her with hot wax. Your son is another royal monster-"

"Joffery is nothing like Aerys Tagaryen!"

"I maybe a drunken lust-filled imp, but I am no liar. You don’t have to take my word for it: let’s go ask my darling wife shall we?”

Tyrion charged ahead despite Jamie calling, and Jamie hurried after him. The knight did not want to believe his son was a monster like Aerys Targaryen. Surly the gods who denied him the wife of his heart would not punish his child with violent madness?

Tyrion refused to speak the rest of the way back to his chambers. They found Bronn was alone, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He nodded to Tyrion.

"Boss?"

“Where is Pod?” Tyrion asked.

“The Queen’s boy, came round hunting for Ser Jamie. Pod promised to help him find you two. He might have taken the long way round. When Ser Jamie came by earlier he seemed to have something to say to you privately. I told Pod to take the long way round. To make sure you and Ser Jamie had time for a proper heart to heart.”

“Keep a civil tongue in your mouth sell-sword or it will be removed.” Jamie growled.

“Don't bully my man. Bronn is a knight same as you Jamie,” Tyrion corrected opening the door and going into the room.

“What?”

“Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, in recognition of his valiant defense of the city against Robert Baratheon’s invasion. He may not have lineage, and lands now, but if he keeps killing people in my service I’ll grant him everything that’s in my power to give.”

“You would trust a man who’s honor can be bought and sold like a sheep?”

“I trust the man who has fought for me and saved my life time and again without fail. I trust him more than the City Watch and the Kings Guard to protect me and my wife. Gold is a small price to pay for a good night sleep.”

“My lord Tyrion, you’ve returned.”

Sansa Lannister nee Stark stood from the thick book she was reading at the table still cluttered with breakfast dishes and approached the two men.

“Lord Commander, good morning sir.” Sansa bobbed a polite curtsy but said nothing else to the elder Lannister brother. She looked to her husband for a clue how Jamie should be handled.

“Lady Sansa, my darling, please assure my brother you are still a maid.”

Sansa blushed with embarrassment and looked down at her hands clasped in front of her waist. “I am still a virgin Ser Lannister.”

“Have I beat you? Shouted abuse at you? Denied you food?”

“No milord Tyrion you’ve been…very kind.”

“Did Joffrey ever hurt you?” Jamie asked the girl, who looked to Tyrion with wide frightened eyes.

“Please tell him,” Tyrion asked softly, he stepped forward and took her hands in his gently. “It’s alright, nothing will happen if you tell him the truth of it.”

“He had his knight strike me in the face the day he showed me my father’s head on a spike. He had me stripped and beaten in open court with a sword the day word of Robb’s victory over your forces reached King's Landing. He whipped me with a cane then choked me unconscious when our engagement was broken, he –"

“Enough girl, enough. I don’t want to hear anymore.” Jamie turned away from her flat voice and dead eyed stare. He went to the table and poured himself a generous goblet of wine. Joffrey was more the son of the Mountain and Hound Clegane than Jamie Lannister.

“You’ve heard the truth, and upset my wife so I must ask you to leave.” Tyrion herded Jamie out. The knight found himself in the hallway with wine goblet still in his hand before he had gathered his wits enough to respond to Sansa’s short list of Joffery’s crimes.

Bronn was still leaning against the wall, now cleaning his fingernails with the tip of a dagger. Jamie finished his drink with a gulp, cast his cup aside .

“You should stand at attention when you guard my brother. Not touch up your manicure.”

“Idle hands do the devil’s work, and your brother keeps me busy enough…Ser Jaime.”

“If your carelessness cost my brother his life you’ll answer to me Ser Blackwater.”

Bronn’s eyes flicked down to Jaime’s golden hand and up to his face. “You think so?”

Jaime’s next attack against Bronn was thwarted by the reappearance of an out of breath Lancel Lannister and Podrick Payne.

“Jaime!” Lancel called out rushing toward Jamie and Bronn with Podrick following close behind. “Your father sent me to find you an hour ago. Lord Lannister is waiting for you in the Tower of the Hand.”

“This isn’t over,” Jamie warned Bronn. Ser Blackwater shrugged unconcerned and continued to clean his nails.

Podrick looked curiously between the two men but said nothing. Jamie followed Lancel to the Tower of the Hand of the King. Lancel went as far as the door, before turning away. Jamie went in alone.

“Close the door. Join me on the terrace.”

Jamie did as he was told. Tywin was on the terrace with his back turned to the door. The Lion of Lannister stood at parade rest with his hands clasped behind his back looking down at the shore of Blackwater Bay where a gaggle of children were playing on the pebble beach.

To Jamie eyes, Tywin looked like a taller version of Tyrion when he stood like that. The Lord of Casterly Rock even wore the same colors and style of leather doublet his younger son favored. Jamie doubted either man noticed their seminaries because of their obvious size difference.

“Father, you wanted to see me?”

“I want you to marry a woman of noble birth and become Lord of Casterly Rock. I want to see your line secured by two legitimate healthy sons born to a noblewomen of good breeding before I die.”

“I am Commander of the King’s Guard. My duties are a life time commitment.”

“Ser Barristan Selmy thought the same. Joffrey disabused him of that notion when he appointed you. Now that you have only one hand, Joffery needs to appoint someone to replace you.”

“I don’t want to be replaced. I don’t want Casterly Rock, a wife or children. Being a member of the Kings Guard is the highest honor in the Seven Kingdoms and I am proud to serve the king.”

“You are a glorified bodyguard. The boy is safe. It is long past time you returned to Casterly Rock and took responsibility for your birthright.”

“You are the Lion of Lannister. Lord Paramount of the Golden Claw, Warden of the West. In the Westerlands I am just a one handed oath breaker, and the less popular of your two sons. Among my men I am respected and obeyed. Here I can serve the family by protecting Cersei and her children.”

“You’d give up Casterly Rock because the small folk doubt your honor? Winter is coming boy, when they are starving and you feed them their opinions will shift faster than a northern wind at sea. That’s why we rule and they serve – they are driven by their appetites and emotions.”

“And we are driven by our destiny,” Jamie finished.

“In a thousand years the individual is forgotten but the family name remains. Cersei was born a Lannister, but her children are Baratheons. It is up to you to protect the family legacy. Not Cersei and her children.”

“What about Tyrion? He’s married. Surely his children can take over Casterly Rock instead of mine.”

“Tyrion is a dwarf. His children are likely to be deformed or idiots. Imperfections are common in tainted blood. If Tyrion can claim it, he and his wife will make their home in Winterfell not Casterly Rock. Joffrey is going to issue him a writ, giving Tyrion dominion over all the territory in rebellion to the Iron Throne he can subdue.”

Jamie frowned thinking of Joffery’s violence. “I can’t leave Joffrey unprotected. There are hundreds of people in this city who’d like to see his head on a spike.”

“With good reason, the boy is a rabid dog. Sooner or later someone will put him down. When that happens our family must be strong enough to defend Tommen’s claim to the throne. It would be better if you wed Lady Aryyn and fostered her sickly brat at Casterly Rock with Kevan.”

“Father you can’t be serious! She’s so old.”

Tywin Lannister looked at his son as if seeing him for the first time. He clearly did not like what he saw. “Don’t’ be stupid boy. All cats are black in the dark. If she dies in child birth, all the better.”

“Why are you pushing for this now?”

“The crown is six million gold dragons in debt. Three million of that is owed to House Lannister. House Lannister owes the Iron Bank of Braavos one and a half million gold dragons.”

“What about our gold mines?”

“The last working mine dried up three years ago. We have yet to tap another substantial vein.”

“Are we,” Jamie hesitated on the word broke, and could not even think the word poor in association with his family name. It was too unthinkable.

“We have resources,” Tywin assured him. “However I will not continue to finance the Baratheon dynasty at the expense of House Lannister.”

“Joffrey is your grandson!”

“Joffrey is a Baratheon. Unless you produce legitimate heirs, you Jamie are the last of my family name. What was the first rule of Lordship I taught you?”

“Mind your own business first and foremost. Protect the family at all cost.”

“Wars are won with gold and men. I have paid dearly for Joffrey’s crown in gold and blood. I will be paid back, with interest. The Iron Bank is known to sponsor wars against those who do not pay them back. When the time comes for Tommen to ascend to the Iron Throne we need to be prepared to suppress widespread sedition.”

Jamie swallowed his first response to his father’s casual disregard for his eldest grandson’s life expectancy. “We can’t just give up on Joffrey! He’s just a boy he could still change.”

“I was his age when I became master of Casterly Rock and defended my family from the ambitions of the Reynes. I have not changed from the youth I was, neither will Joffrey. Prepare yourself to comfort your sister when the time comes. She is the only one who will be weeping.”

“Do you know of any immediate threat to his life?”

“Ask Varys. I don’t bother investigating them anymore. Jaime, you can’t save a mad man from his funeral pyre. I speak from firsthand experience as Hand of the King during Aerys’ reign. Better he goes before he takes the rest of us with him.”

“He’s not a mad man. He’s just trying to be a strong king. He's trying to compensate for his age.”

“He used a prostitute, then shot her full of arrows and tried to burn her corpse in his fireplace. Aerys was fond of fire and hurting women too."

"Joffrey is NOT Aerys!"

"You're right. Aerys was not a coward, and for most of his life he could be persuaded to listen to the advice of his privy council. Joffrey is a mad dog who needs to be put down before he bites us all."

"How can you say that? He's your grandson!"

"Joffrey is a dead weight pulling this family down. If we want to survive, we must cut our losses, close ranks and move forward. Quickly. When winter is coming you don’t plan to fight the snow, you stock up on enough food to last the long nights. I suggest you turn your attention to training Tommen to fight. The boy is too meek.”

“Have you bothered to at least warn Cersei of the danger to her son?”

“I give your sister credit, there is little that happens in King’s Landing she is not aware of. She has chosen not to curb Joffrey’s escalating behavior. Clearly she’s written him off too. After Joffrey’s wedding take Tommen to Dorne and see Myrcella married. He needs to see more of the world he will rule someday.”

“You want Myrcella to marry a Martell? They hate us!”

“That breach will never heal without a grand gesture from us, and allegiance with Martell will curb the Tyrell’s ambitions. If you can’t snag Lady Arryn, you must marry a Tully, then the Riverlands can be joined with Casterly Rock permanently.”

“Baelish is Lord of Harrenhal and the Riverlords will never submit to me.”

“Baelish's days are numbered. He is the one who put us the crown in such deep debt to our family and the Iron Bank. I plan to let Cersei deal with him. She wants to rule the realm so badly let’s see if she’s truly capable of wielding power effectively.”

“I don’t understand, Cersei’s already Queen Regent.”

“And tomorrow, at the small council meeting I will make her Master of Coin.”

“But she’s a women!”

“She’s a Lannister,” Tywin corrected. “I put her husband Robert Baratheon her husband on the Iron Throne, and I am keeping her son Joffrey on it now. Cersei is going to take responsibility for Baratheon debt to Lannister and see it repaid. Or she can remarry and her husband can pay her debts.”

“Father why are you always so…cruel to us? We are your children you could at least pretend to care about our happiness.”

“Aerys Tagaryen was a doting father. He let Rhaeger get away with murder. Literally. Look what’s become of his family. I am working to prepare you all for the rigors of the world you must fight to survive in after my death. If you love Tommen, you will do the same for him and your sons to come.”

“I am needed in the King’s Guard,” Jamie insisted. “Tommen needs me, even if Joffrey is lost.”

“As you wish, sign the documents on my desk on your way out.”

More than ready to end the interview, Jamie strode over to his father’s desk where he found the center cleared except for a three sheets of parchment filled with tiny writing, the edges decorated with gold paint. He signed them all without reading, and headed for the door.

“Jamie?” Tywin called out, making Ser Lannister paused with his hand on the door.

“You just witnessed my Last Will and Testament.” Tywin walked over to his desk and shook sand on the bottom of the documents to dry the fresh signature. “If you do not marry and produce two legitimate heirs before I leave this earth you will not inherit Casterly Rock.”

“I told you I don’t want it.”

“The heir who will replace you will not be so generous toward Cersei and her children, nor Baratheon’s debt to Lannister.”

“Who do you intend to have inherit Casterly in my steed?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out when I die. Rest assured your uncle and the captains of the Lannister bannermen are well aware of my plans for the succession of Casterly Rock. They are in complete support of my decision. Don’t think you will over rule my final directive when I am dead.”

“All this just so you can force me to marry a woman I don’t love and have children I don’t want?”

“How you feel about your future family is entirely up to Jaime. The question is what you will do for Cersei. Close the door on your way out.”


	3. Chapter 3

Lancel delivered his father, Kevan Lannister to the Hand of the King’s tower, as he had his cousin Jaime a short while before.

  


“The gods mock me through my sons,” Tywin declared in his serious, dramatic fashion that always made Kevan think of a mummer’s farce.

  


“What has Jaime done now?” Kevan asked tiredly. It looked like Kevan stood at parade rest, but with his knees slightly bent he could comfortably stand for hours while his brother Tywin ranted about his son's latest folly.

  


“The fool signed it without reading it!” Tywin tossed the signed copy of his last will and testament on the table before Kevan and began marching back and forth before the fireplace with his hands on his hips. 

  


Kevan took a moment to choose his words carefully. Tywin had confided to Kevan that he planned to officially disinherit Jaime if his heir did not mend his ways. Kevan did not really think Tywin would do it.

  


To Kevan's eyes, Jaime was to much like his  weak father Tytos. A man easily lead to destruction by his lust. At long last Tywin was beginning to catch on to the glaring flaws in his golden son. 

  


Kevan’s baby boy, Willem was dead because of Jaime Lannister’s arrogance and  incompetence. If Jaime cast off his inheritance in a fit of his usual stupidity, Kevan would happily grease his slide to ruination. 

  


“You can’t fault him for wanting to protect Cersei and her children. Gods know they have few friends in King’s Landing.”

  


“Who’s fault is that?” Tywin demanded rounding on Kevan. “She let Arya Stark escape. She let Joffery have Eddard Stark beheaded! We could have had peace well before winter if not for that bloodthirsty fool! She gave Harrenhal to Baelish! That craven, simpering, praise peddler!”

  


“I thought you approved of littlefinger? Wasn’t he instrumental in financing our campaign against the Tullys?”

  


“Littlefinger helped us dig our grave then tossed dirt on our heads.” 

  


Tywin succinctly explained Baelish’s history of creative finance. When Tywin finished Kevan stumbled to the table, poured himself a goblet of wine with shaking hands and dropped heavily into a chair.

  


“If the Iron Bank of Braavos aligns with Stannis or the Targaryen brat, Dorne will follow to avenge Elia and her children. According to Varys, Prince Oberyn has spent his time quietly investigating the Sack of King’s Landing. He wants revenge.”

  


Tywin snorted rudely. “Everyone whispers about what the north remembers, forgetting the Martells successfully fought off dragons for two hundred years. Myrcella will marry a Martell or we will burn.”

  


“You still mean to marry Joffrey to Margaery? The Tyrells will turn against us just as they turned against the Targaryens, and the Baratheons. They are traitorous bastards.” 

  


“If the Tyrells and Martells really sweep the cobbles of every able bodied man they could take the whole seven kingdoms, thank the gods they never thought to unite. Besides, I think being a devoted husband to that conniving ten penny whore is a fitting punishment for Joffrey don’t you? ”

  


“Did you tell Jaime all this?”

  


“Yes, and he still left - no doubt to ask Cersei what he should do. I never thought a son of mine would have such a weak mind and no ambition.”

  


Kevan agreed. Jaime Lannister could have just as easily been a spicer, a sailor or a spit boy in the scullery turning the roast pig over an open flame as a knight of the King’s Guard. 

  


“After Cersei explains the gravity of the situation, I’m sure Jaime will have a clear picture of his place and priorities.” Privately Kevan believed their sister Genna was right: Jaime Lannister was not man enough to hold Casterly Rock. 

  


Jaime Lannister went where he was told, and did what he was ordered. An empty head, strong back and a heart full of romantic notions about honor. A fool unworthy of Lordship.

  


“Now that Jamie is in danger of losing out on the inheritance he always took for granted, he will quickly mend his ways,” Kevan consoled his older brother.

  


“We will see. If not, my will shall stand as written. You, Genna and the Faith of the Seven will see to that.”

  


Tywin tightly rolled the scroll, his last will and testament, slide the tube of paper it into a glass bottle, and corked it. Kevan sealed it by holding a stick of wax over a candle flame and letting the drippings cover the top of the bottle. 

  


When Kevan finished waxing the bottle he handed it to Tywin. The Lord of Casterly Rock pressed his signet ring into the hot wax then handed it back to Kevan. There were two other bottles similarly sealed with wax on Tywin’s desk. Each held an identical copy of Tywin’s will.

  


“If I could turn back time, I would have fed Joanna moon tea by the flagon, and made you my heir Kevan. You would have been grateful to have Casterly Rock.”

  


“Joanna wanted to bare your children, what happened to her was the god’s will, not your fault or Tyrion’s doing.” 

  


“If there was a way to toss that misbegotten misshapen little imp back into the hell pit he crawled from and rise my wife from the ashes I’d dance naked with the devils in dragon fire with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.”

  


“What do you think Joanna would say if she rose from her grave to find you killed her youngest child to bring her back? Do you really think she would thank you for that?”

  


“If Joanna wanted me to love the thing that killed her, she should have lived to make me do it!”

  


Kevan said nothing. He had his own grief to contend with, and his own pain to avenge.

  


The older knight went to the desk and collected the other glass bottled copies of his liege lord’s final orders, and put them into a leather saddle bag he found hanging off Tywin’s desk chair. 

  


When he turned back to his brother, he found Tywin leaning heavily on mantlepiece with both hands, one foot on the heath, staring into the flames. It was something Tyrion did often, Genna called it ‘holding up the wall in despair.’

  


“I should have put my foot down after the twins! Three days in labor - I should have been grateful for two healthy children! She was not born to be a broodmare, but fool that I was, I wanted more sons than Frey. I’d give Lannisport to see Joanna smile again.”

  


In this alone was Jaime Lannister truly Tywin’s son. They both so fucking so self centered. Joanna was bones and dust in the family crypt. The wolves and ravens picked at Willem lost and forgotten in some forsaken northern forest. 

  


Jaime was so grieved by the loss of his hand, and consumed with his mission to return the Stark girl to the north it had not even occurred to him to tell Kevan that Willem was dead. Kevan found out from Brienne of Tarth, she brought back the boy’s sword.

  


“Shall I deliver these myself or have a rider do it?”

  


“If you would go yourself. I can trust no one else these days.”

  


“As you wish, Tywin.”

  


Kevan left his older brother to brood in the Hand of the King’s tower and went to find his eldest son. If Tywin could be honest about Jaime, then Kevan could be honest about Lancel. Varys was probably right, Cersei had her claws in Lancel.

  
If Kevan wanted his line to endure, he had be best get Lancel out of King’s Landing, away from Cersei and married. Thankfully Tywin had given him the perfect excuse for quick action. 


	4. Chapter 4

Tyrion Lannister was not a man Eddard Stark would have chosen to marry either of his daughters. Since Lord Stark had betrothed Sansa too Joffrey Baratheon, she considered her father’s low opinion of Tyrion a point in his favor.

 

“I am sorry my brother upset you Lady Sansa, after today it will probably be years before you need see him again,” Lord Tyrion assured his wife. He stood before her, looking up into her face, holding her hands as her little brothers Bran and Rick had when they were begging for a favor. 

 

Standing, Tyrion Lannister was shorter than Eddard Stark had been on his knees the day he was executed. Sansa had to lower herself to receive the hated crimson cloak at her wedding. She idly wondered if she would have faced execution if she refused to bow down to her little husband.

 

“There is nothing to forgive. He is your brother, milord husband. It pleases me to be known to him,” Sansa replied simply. “My happiness is your happiness, your happiness is my happiness.”

 

“Milady, surely it has not escaped you notice that the pious platitudes the sept preaches are intended to make the small folk and ladies obedient to their lords and husbands not actually be helpful advice?”

 

“In a world without compassion and mercy you would deny even the promise of god’s reward for faithful service? What is there to live for in a world like that?”

 

“Until we married I lived for wine, and the company of women with negotiable virtue,” Tyrion teased. “Now I’ll have to adopt more sober habits befitting the consort of Lady Winterfell.”

 

“Please don’t change your usual habits to accommodate me, Lord Tyrion.” Sansa dropped Tyrion’s hands. She took a seat at the breakfast table to continue reading her book. “I am well aware it is not my place to dictate to you, milord.”

 

Tyrion sigh. His shoulders slumped and his shook his head before slowly going to stand beside Sansa’s chair. He placed one small square hand in the middle of the page she was reading.

 

“Lady Sansa, I will not dishonor you by taking a mistress or visiting whores. You have my word I mean you no harm. I will protect your welfare, and your honor with my life if need be.” 

 

Sansa looked straight ahead. Sansa could not look her husband in the face and have this conversation, but it needed to be said.

  
  


“I am not unreasonable Lord Tyrion. I understand men have...needs. You have given me the right to deny you my body, it is only fair you be allowed the liberty to seek attention elsewhere. I swear on my father’s grave to be a civil, dutiful, loyal wife. I only ask that you restrain your drinking.” 

 

“You don’t care if I take a mistress but you object to drunkenness? You are a curious kind of wife Lady Sansa. I don’t think you learned to be so accommodating from your mother. As I recall Jon Snow was hardly treated as a member of the family.”

 

Sansa’s head whipped around, and she glared at Tyrion. Having just sworn to be a dutiful wife to her erstwhile captor Sansa could not curse Tyrion for having the ill manners to bring up the living breathing proof of  her father, Eddard Stark’s infidelity to her mother. She took another tack.

 

“At our wedding feast you threatened to castrate King Joffery with your dinner knife. He could have had you killed then and there. You say you want to protect? Start by guarding your tongue more carefully.” 

 

“Would you have rather been stripped naked and carried off to bed by the same gold cloaks who beat you at court?”

 

After her betrothal to Joffrey was set, Catelyn Stark had begun advising Sansa on how to be a lady wife. Lady Stark told her daughter to coax her husband gently, while hugging him or coddling him in bed, and to never shout like an angry sheriff reading a list of crimes.

 

Sansa could not bring herself to hug a Lannister, never mind coddling him in her bed. She bit her lip, then reached out took the hand in the middle of her book in both her hands and squeezed it gently. Sansa looked Tyrion in the eyes and spoke to him with gentle sincerity. 

 

“Thank you for standing up to Joffrey for me, Tyrion. I grateful for the pain you spared me. You are more brave and honorable than all other lords and knights in court combined. But you must take care, or you will be as dead as my brave and honorable father.”

“You are right Lady Sansa,” Tyrion bowed his head, and took a deep breath.  “I drank too much and put my head in a lion’s mouth like a fool. I put us both in danger, I am sorry.”

 

“You are forgiven.” Sansa leaned forward and gently kissed Tyrion’s forehead as she had seen her mother do. “They say you are the most clever man in Westeros, lord husband. I expect better from you in future.”

 

Lady Catelyn Stark  kissed her children after they were granted mercy rather than wrath for the mischief and her husband after their occasional bouts of matrimonial discord. 

 

Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North was one of the tallest men in the North. He had to drop to one knee, as if giving homage to a king, to receive his wife’s clemency.  It was a deeply symbolic gesture that had always struck Sansa a incredibly romantic.

Tyrion smiled ruefully up at her. He seemed pleased to be forgiven. Sansa smiled in return. She felt strangely powerful to have even so slight a power over her husband. 

 

Tyrion was only a dagger among the many gleaming swords of Lannister, but it did not take a long blade to kill a man, only a very sharp one. 

 

“Well now, we’ve weathered our first marital fight without broken crockery or tears. This calls for a celebration!”

 

“Shall I ring for wine Lord Tyrion?”

 

“No my wife does not like me to drink. If you’ve no other plans for this afternoon I’d like to take you on a horseback tour of the city. You can ride can’t you Lady Sansa?”

 

“Of course I can, but why would we tour of King’s Landing? We are leaving tomorrow. Shouldn’t we rest today?”

 

“We must appear as normal as possible. Besides after tomorrow you will not be returning to the capital any time soon or possibly ever. We can visit the market and see the Dragon’s Pit. That is where they keep the bones from every Targaryen dragon mounted to the wall. It’s quite a site.” 

 

Men, Sansa reflected were all the same no matter their size: they wanted sex, wine and to boast of the things they killed. 

 

When King Robert Baratheon arrived at Winterfell, the first thing Eddard Stark had done was take him to see the heads of the stags, bears and boars he had killed mounted in the great hall.

 

Joffrey wasted no time showing off Eddard’s head mounted on a spike to his daughter. 

 

Sansa did not care two tarts about dragon bones, but she would go to the Dragon Pit, pretend to be interested and sharpen her dagger with smiles and attention. 

 

Then perhaps one day Tyrion would present Sansa’s with a hunting trophy she could truly enjoy admiring: Joffrey’s head mounted between the boars and bears on the wall of Winterfell’s great hall. 

 

“Thank you Lord Tyrion, it will be nice to get out of these rooms and into the fresh air. Could we pass by the Sept of Baelor for evening prayer. I’d like to see Brother Sparrow before we leave, he has been kind to me.”

 

“That would be a perfect, I have to pay the High Septon. That would be a ideal time to give it to him.”

 

“Why would you pay the High Septon? I thought the Faith of Seven existed on charity.”

 

“Yes, after the Battle of Blackwater Bay, Maester Pycelle and his minions focused their attention on the wealthy, knights and nobles. He was less than attentive to me and several others he considered disposable. If not for the holy brothers I might have lost my life or half my face to rot.”

 

“I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that Lord Tyrion...but you mustn't call it a payment. You’ll insult the High Septon. Say it is a gift to the faith. To help feed the poor, suffering refugees flocking to the city for relief from the war tearing our country apart.”

 

“A gift for the poor and suffering? You are good,” Tyrion said admiringly. “I bet once you have an army and wealth behind you again, even Margaery Tyrell would be hard pressed to best your political maneuvering.”

 

“Be kind, milord. Margaery is my friend.”

 

“Margaery is a cultivated schemer who scares people thrice her age. Have you never pondered how the widow of Renly Baratheon - who made war against the throne - managed to not only get herself engaged to the king, but her brother into the kingsguard and her father master of ships?”

 

“You don’t really think she did all those things by herself? She’s not a witch.”

 

“No she had help. The Tyrells operate like the wolf packs I watched hunt deer from the wall.  They test their prey, looking for the weakest in the herd, then chase them, wearing them out, taking turns in a relay of harassment until the perfect moment. Then they go for the neck.”  

 

“Is that why we are leaving King’s Landing in such a hurry? Think the Tyrells are out to get you?”

 

“Lady Sansa I meant what I said yesterday, we are living on borrowed time. I live because my father has not let Cersei or Joffrey kill me. You live because your brother still has an army roaming Riverrun and Winterfell. If my father or your brother dies what would become of us then?”

 

“We’d need an army or an ocean between us and them,” Sansa said repeating what Tyrion had told her the day before. 

 

“Exactly, and we are not likely to raise an army here so we go first to Casterly Rock to gather supplies then seek our fortune to the east and north.”

“I don’t understand. Your brother is in the King’s Guard. He can not take a wife or father children. Surely Casterly Rock is yours by right.”

 

“Not by the will of my father. He is Warden of the West. He is allowed disregard the normal order of succession for the good of the realm. The Rock will pass to my Uncle Kevan if Jaimie never marries.”

 

“What about Tommen?”

 

“What about him? Tommen can not inherit Casterly Rock, he a is Baratheon, not a Lannister.”

 

“But isn’t he Jaime’s-?” Sansa began to say Jaime Lannister’s son, but caught herself. “Oh I’m sorry, I beg pardon miLord!” She ducked her head and wait for the explosion. 

 

They had been getting along so nicely, it was pity she had ruined it thoughtlessly. Eddard Stark had always said you did not know a person until you made them truly angry.  Now Sansa would really see the kind of man she had married. She braced herself for a blow.

 

“Cersei thinks she’s so clever, when everyone and my Lady wife can see the truth.” Tyrion laughed, loudly. He took a step back, had to support himself with one hand on the table while he almost doubled over slapping his leg. 

 

“If it’s true then it’s a treasonous scandal, you shouldn’t laugh. My father and a lot of peasants have died because of the war,” Sansa said seriously.

 

“It is true, and it is a treasonous scandal. I must laugh to keep from crying. My brother and sister are fools. My father is selectively blind. Joffrey is a madman. Half the kingdom is falling apart or burning. I might be able to save Tommen, and spare of the smallfolk but not from here.”

 

“What about Myrcella? She’s a good, sweet girl. Don’t give her up for lost.”

 

“Myrcella is like Cersei was at that age very … precocious. I saw the way she looked a Prince Oberyn, so I sent her to Dorne. I she has already fallen in love with Trystanne Martell. Her blonde hair and light eyes look very excotic in the south, she respected, adored and protected.” 

 

“Just because Myrcella loves him, does not mean Trystanne Martell is a good man . She is my age or a little younger i think. At one time I fancied myself in love with Joffrey.”

 

“Ned did not have the Master of Whispers at his disposal. I do. Believe me I made full use of that resource before I considered sending my niece anywhere. They don’t treat women in the south like they do in the rest of Westeros and even bastards are treated like true born children.”

 

“You certainly have given Myrcella’s match a lot of thought.”

 

“I love my niece dearly. Nobody else was thinking of her future, I had to act while I had the power to do so. The Martells held off the Targaryens and their dragons for hundreds of years. Even if every Lannister dies Myrcella will be safe in the south. If I fail, Tommen can shelter with her.”

 

Sansa was suddenly furious with her father. It seemed Tyrion had given more consideration to his NIECE, Myrcella’s future than Eddard Stark for his own daughters. 

 

Had Eddard Stark known Joffrey was a monster? If not, why had he not known? Why did he not ask someone about the boy’s true character? Yesterday Tyrion said Joffrey’s cruelty was common knowledge. 

 

If Eddard Stark had known what Joffrey was like why in the seven hells had he allowed Sansa to become engaged to him? 

 

Eddard Stark helped put Robert Baratheon on the throne, surely he could have turned down a betrothal without giving offense?

 

She would always love her father, but Sansa was beginning not to like Eddard Stark.

 

“When they marry I hope we can go to the wedding?” Sansa asked distracting herself. 

 

“I hope you’ll be safely in Winterfell by that point planning your next marriage.”

 

“My next marriage? Where are you going to be while I’m getting married to someone else milord?”

 

“On a ship sailing for the free cities and a new life. I planned to slip off into the night after my father returned to King’s Landing from fighting your brother, but fate intervened.”

 

“You are a Lion of Lannister, a Lord of Casterly Rock, how could you ever consider turning your back on everything?”

 

“It’s not mine Sansa. None of it is. My father would take back his name if he could, Cersei and Joffrey want to kill me. There is nothing to tie me to Westeros except you, Tommen and Myrcella.

Once you are home and Tommen is safe, my work is done. I’m getting out while I still can.”

 

“That’s what you meant when you said I could have Winterfell or freedom,” Sansa said with dawning understanding. “I could come with you to the free cities or I could go home to Winterfell.”

 

“Depending on who your family chooses for your next husband a life at sea might not sound so bad to you, but you should wait and see who they have in mind for you before you decide anything. I’ll respect your wishes no matter what you choose.” 

 

“That's very generous of you Lord Tyrion, but who would marry me? No one would believe I’m still a virgin.”

 

“Do I need to remind you of Margery Tyrell’s first marriage again? She shared a tent with Renly Baratheon and managed to snag a king, I am sure you can do even better.”

 

“What’s better than a king?”

 

“A good man, with a sense of humor who loves you and doesn’t care if you are a virgin or not. Margery will have a throne, but you will have happiness, love and the respect of your husband.”

 

“That’s a lot to ask from a second marriage.”

 

“Give me a little credit, I did successfully settle Myrcella. I’m not a complete novice at match making.”

 

“Alright!” Sansa threw up her hands. Then shook a finger at Tyrion with a teasing smile. “I’ll leave it to you, my clever husband. Find your replacement or book me a cabin on a ship to Essos. Mind you, he must be everything you promised in addition to being clever, clean and brave.”

 

“Clean varies by the day, and can be trained. Every boy with a stick for a sword thinks he’s brave. But Clever? That is a challenge. You fancy a maester my dear? Not Pyrcelle I hope?”

 

Sansa shuddered. “He puts the dirty in dirty old man. He smells of old sweat and sour wine all the time. Under his nails is black with I don't know what.”

 

“Oh well I suppose you’d like someone pretty? Then you and your husband can match, I know that look. You’re thinking of Loras Tyrell aren’t you? Well don’t.”

 

“I was thinking of Willas Tyrell actually, but what’s wrong with Loras. If he were not in the King’s Guard he’d make a good husband.”

 

Tyrion snorted rudely. “My dear Margaery and Loras are both widows of Renly Baratheon.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“Margaery was his wife, but Renly Baratheon slept with Loras.”

 

“Why would Loras sleep with Renly? If he was cold shouldn’t Margaery -”

 

“There are men who like having sex with men. Loras Tyrell is one of those men.”

 

“How would that even work? He doesn’t have a, uhm, you know? There’s no place to _put it_.”

 

“They put their cocks in each others mouth, fist or arse. So long as it’s hot, tight and slick a man will bugger it.”

 

“Do you know what _comes out of there_? That’s disgusting! You’re lying!”

 

“I swear it’s the truth! I know you don’t believe me - and for the love of the seven please don’t say anything to Margaery or anyone else - but you can test it. You know my cousin Lancel? The pretty prick who’s just got religion? Watch Loras’ eyes when Lancel passes him. He’ll look at his arse.”

 

“I’ll watch but you’re wrong. The knight of flowers would never do something that, that dirty!”

 

“The knight of flowers is a flower himself, and lest you forget milady wife, _flowers grow strong_ in dirt.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter of this, then on to the sequel.


	5. Chapter 5

Cersei and Tywin were always hiding the truth of things or acting without consulting Joffrey first as if he were not their King, and only a few months from full authority. He would fix them soon enough. 

Maester Pycelle only knew what happened a hundred years ago, and waffled rather than giving his opinion like a tradesmen haggling over a price. Jaime droned on about honor as if a king slaying, oath breaker had any concept of what honor was. 

The last High Septon was a drunken pervert who had given Joffrey some interesting ideas to try out on whores but nothing useful for ruling the kingdom. The new High Septon was entirely to holy to be bothered with. The man honestly believed prayer was the answer. Blah.

Only the half man told Joffery the whole truth and advised him with unvarnished honesty. Unfortunately Tyrion’s council was usually delivered when Joffrey was not interested in listening and accompanied by a blow to the face. The man was live saving medicine that tasted like shit.

Tyrion had insisted Joffrey offer his sympathies to the Stark family after Brandon’s accident. 

Joffrey had just met the Starks, he and Sansa were not married. Brandon Stark was not family. Why should Joffrey care if Brandon was hurt? He was clearly feeble minded. Why else would he climbed up the side of a building when there were stairs?

Furthermore his mother, Cersei Baratheon, never let any of her children go so far as the privy without some kind of escort to protect them. If Catelyn Stark did not have the good sense to take similar precautions why should Joffrey apologise? Catelyn should have apologised to Eddard.

Tyrion rescued Sansa from a beating in the throne room. 

The people Robb Stark’s army were killing were vassals of Casterly Rock, the sons, father, uncles nephews, cousins and brothers of the people who helped put him in the throne. Starks cut off his uncle Jaime’s hand. Starks killed his cousins.

Joffrey thought having the northern girl whipped would please the court to witness, and the small folk to hear about. Apparently not. Men who rapped and pillaged King’s Landing when Tywin took the city apparently found whipping one high born girl offensive to their fickle honor. Who knew? 

Tyrion upbraided Joffrey for ordering the mass execution of the starving small folk in King’s Landing. 

 

Until Tyrion shouted at him, Joffrey had not known that the small folk WERE starving.  
How was Joffery to know there was a shortage? There was always food on Joffrey’s table. None of the nobles who attended court looked thin.

The few minutes he spent with his councilors before he was shooed away to lessons, sword practice, prayers, meals, hunting or walking around aimlessly looking noble nobody mentioned there was any problems besides his rebellious jealous Baratheon uncles.

So when a drunk Tyrion angrily told Joffrey his father, Robert Baratheon had squandered his inheritance; that half Westeros was in revolt or plotting to rule in his name, on the eve of his wedding to Sansa, Joffrey listened and believed.

The drunken prince slapper had proven himself to be tactless, ill-favored, ill-tempered, and ill-timed; but Tyrion was neither a fool nor a liar. 

Joffery was not stupid. He, Tommen, and Myrcella had tutors before Pycelle. Clever men hand picked by Tyrion, because Cersei and Robert did not care about book learning. He was a king, the son of a king and grandson of the greatest warlord since Aegon landed in the Seven Kingdoms.

Joffrey promised himself, his first act, when he came of age, would be to avenge himself against the small folk who rose up in riot against him. He would have the Gold Cloaks round up every man and boy in the Crownlands, take them to the Dragon Pit and castrate them. 

He would mount their cocks to wall of the Red Keep and have painted above the spectacle ‘the king shall suffer no man to breed sedition in Westeros.’ 

He would sell their women and babies by the boatload to the slavers in the free cities. Their girls, all those who had not flowered or were pretty - would work in Joffrey's brothels all over the Seven kingdoms. 

The money from the slaves, brothels, and seized property would make Joffrey the richest man in the world. The Seven Kingdoms would fear him as they had never feared the Targaryens.

He would burn everything in the Crownlands but the Red Keep to a ashes. He would add a fortified harbor to the Castle, and let the King’s Wood take back the filthy wasteland and stop the annual flooding. 

Inside the city walls would be divided into fields to support the Red Keep. It would no longer have to rely on imports from the Reach. He’d build a massive marketplace, with fountains, gutters, stone houses, and paved courtyards like the one Maester Pycelle said made Braavos so rich.

Joffrey’s eunuchs would repave, repair, and extend the of the King’s Road so his armies could move quickly and easily throughout his kingdom. He would have fortresses built along the road for his merchant’s safety and to keep his military’s presence in every corner of Westeros.

When he no longer needed the eunuchs, he would sell most of them to the free cities too, so he did not have to feed them during winter. A few he would keep to guard his wife’s virtue. 

Despite her sworn oath, Joffrey knew Margaery Tyrell not a virgin. Sansa Stark was a virgin. When she had fancied herself in love with Joffrey her affections had always been genuine but timid. The height of Sansa’ passion was to touch Joffrey's hand briefly or hold his gaze too long.

Sansa would never have melted into Joffrey’s embrace the way Margaery did when he showed her how to handle his new crossbow. Margaery thought she was being subtle when she rubbed her arse against his manhood like a bitch in heat.

Thankfully Tyrion had seen to it Joffrey was educated in the arts of whores.

Tyrion had sent Joffrey a sample of Baelish’s best whores. Joffrey had resented the presumption that he could not get a women into his bed without offering her coin, but the experience proved invaluable when Mageary was thrust upon him by his grandfather and mother without warning. 

Much as he hated the imp, Joffrey knew Tyrion was a better parent than Cersei or Robert. He certainly always paid attention to everything Joffrey did, and never missed an opportunity to chastise his behavior or provide timely, if blunt educational information. 

Letting Tyrion have Sansa Stark was the least Joffrey could do to to reward his uncle soothsayer.   
Eventually, when the red-bitch bent to the little pervert, Tyrion would be a grateful powerful ally amongst the two-faced vipers of court.

Cersei and Tywin hated Tyrion for killing his grandmother Joanna. Which was silly. Women died in childbirth all the time. Jaime loved him but like everything else about the man Jaime’s affection amounted to pretty words and useless actions. 

Joffery stopped listening to his elders when Jamie returned from letting the beardless wolf pup Robb Stark defeat an army of 30 thousand with a third as many men and Cersei and Tywin fawned all over him like he was a hero. 

Tyrion stood to face Stannis Baratheon when the Hound Clegane turned coward and he did not get so much as a feast. So when Joffrey heard from eavesdropping on his mother about Tyrion’s whore Shae just before the battle of Blackwater Bay, Joffrey started to plan. 

Eventually some scheming Margaery-like women would have come along, charmed her way into Tyrion’s heart and turned him against the family. Tyrion was well positioned to rot the Lannisters from the inside like an apple with worms. 

Tyrion had served as Hand of the King, Master of Coin, and confidante of Varys. No one knew their weaknesses better.

The Tyrells wanted Sansa, but Joffrey had a better idea. He idly suggested Sansa should be handed to Tyrion since he had no more use for her. Cersei - lacking the tactical imagination of a man - though it was just a cruel jape. She could not wait to run to Tywin with the idea. 

Joffrey had done his best to break Sansa’s heart and mind. The proud northern girl took a great deal of time to humble. Even cut off from everything she knew and friendless she still stood tall head held high. Not even seeing her father’s head on a spike could crack her flawless facade.

Still Joffrey persisted. He relentlessly harassed Sansa leading up to, and on the day of the Stark girl’s wedding to reinforce the fact Sansa could expect no mercy or protection in the Seven Kingdoms that did not come from the shelter of her marriage to Tyrion. 

Joffery was not a warleader like his father or grandfather. He wanted the north subdued without further bloodshed. Before winter. Had better things to spend his money on and there was no way in the his armies could win a war against north men in the snow.

If anyone could tame the northern bitches it was Tyrion. The man managed to rescue himself from the Vale, charm the heathen hill tribes, then get himself appointed to both Hand of the King, and Master of Coin then do a creditable job at both offices without previous experience. 

If Tyrion failed, Joffery could always have him killed. It wasn’t like anyone in the family would really miss the little man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tried with very limited success to channel the voices of Joffery and Tommen. I don't have enough inner demons, this is the best I can do. On to the next story ....


End file.
